My Baby Girl
by E.M.Bryant97
Summary: We know that Evy and Jonathan's parents died, but who were they? And how did they die? A look into their past leading up to their parents in Heaven.
1. Sand and Pyramids

Evelyn. My baby girl. I remember when I first saw her, all that brown hair sticking up everywhere, my slightly curved nose, and her mother's eyes. That's when I knew she would and always be my Evelyn.

Of course, there is a negative side to another child in the household. By the age of three, she was able to properly defend herself of attacks from her older brother, Jonathan. Oh, Jonathan. You would think being three years older than your sister gives you a higher advantage when it comes to tackling each other in the foyer. Not when you have a sister like Evelyn. By the age of five, they were still fighting. And it continued pretty much into her teenage years. Though it bothered me to see them act like this, my wife just smiled. "she's strong, just like you."

I knew, deep down inside, that Jonathan thoroughly enjoyed having a baby sister. I know he doesn't really look like much, but at an early age, he got the tricky job of being a big brother. One who always takes after his baby sister.

As I watched my two children grow, I began to notice changes in their behavior. For instance, Evelyn's sudden interest in Egypt. She was only four when I took her on her first plane ride to the country. I was planning to do a short dig while there, and when she heard this, she pleaded and pleaded until I finally said yes.

She was in my arms when we first stepped foot in Egypt; I could almost feel the excitement within her. She pointed towards the pyramids of Giza sitting on the thin darkening horizon and smiled. She had that sparkle in her deep eyes as she looked at me with amazement. "daddy, I want to go there when I get big!"

I knew this was true because even when Jonathan laughed and taunted, she kept her composure like he wasn't even there.

Over the years, Evelyn became Evy, who grew more and more obsessed over her mothers country by the minute, Jonathan was still plain Jonathan, and something else. We were all closer as a family. And by those words I mean my two children had stopped fighting each other every waking morning.

And something else, too. I could see the apparent differences between Evy and Jonathan. For starters, anyone with working eyes could see that my baby girl was way smarter (I mean more academically inclined; Layla doesn't approve of me saying that our son is stupid). Now I'm not saying he will be "less academically inclined" his whole life, but the way he's headed, I'm just grateful my girl will always be there for him.

Lately though, I've been worried for my son. I love him, as much as a father can love his only son, and try not to loose hope in him. I watch as he begins to fight more with his school mates, coming home with more and more bruises and scratches. Sometimes when Evy doesn't think anyone's watching, she will care and treat her older brother, her motherly instincts glowing. I smile when I see this, as I know my baby girl will always take care of her brother, even if drunk and hopeless.

It's early may now, the summer air is just barley sweeping through our doors.

My baby girl is almost reached her fifteenth year, and Jonathan his eighteenth. It seems as they grow older, so does their sense of adventure. I send Evy and Jonathan off to school that early morning, feeling quite empty without them here in the house. I sit, almost anticipating their arrival home. I can't help it. The look on my daughters face after a long days work at school always makes my day.

Hours pass, and finally they come. I open the door, and my smile fades. I guess I didn't see this day coming; the day when my baby girl bright home her first boy.

I could see re nervousness in her eyes as she cleared her throat and looked up at me. I myself couldn't bear to look into her eyes. Because all I can see in them is my baby girl.

"Father, this is Luke." Evy spoke with a soft voice, like she wasn't sure how it would sound on my ears. Believe me, it didn't sound too pleasant.

"We're going to study for tomorrows test in history."

I was still on disbelief. He did look like a charming man, but fifteen?

"Well then," I shook the boys hand before letting him into my house. "You two better get at it."

Evelyn flashed me a smile and hugged me before walking off with a certain spring in her step. Boy, it was going to be a long day.

Then came the day that changed our lives forever. Recently before, I was offered the job of finding King Tut's tomb. Never before has something like this been offered to me. I didn't know what to say.

"You're going to take us, right?" Evy was almost jumping off the walls when I told her this opportunity.

"I mean, you're going to take me, right?" this comment received a glare from her brother.

I didn't know what to say to her. Looking at her facial expression, anyone could see that going to Egypt with me would make her life complete. But, as fate would have it, the bloody board director strictly said no one under the age of eighteen. My baby girl fell under that requirement by a mere year and a half. Taking Jonathan only just wouldn't be fair.

"Sweetheart," I began, looking right into her eyes to avoid any unfair confrontations. But my little girl knew me all too well.

"Don't even bother!"

Evy pushed her breakfast away from her and stood up abruptly. She ran out of the room without a word.

I caught a glance at her brown eyes before she hid them with her hands. They were lifeless.


	2. Brothers

"Hey, ol' mum." Jonathan knocked lightly on her bedroom door before entering. Evy was lying on her bed, her face lost in a combination of hair and pillows. Hearing her brother's voice, she sat up quickly, using a single finger to brush a stray tear from her face. "Hi Jon." she managed to say in a strangled voice. He went over to where she was sitting and plopped down next to her.

"Tough day?" he almost smirked at his own poor sarcasm.

She shot him a deathly glare through narrowed eyes, which only lasted for a second before she burst into the recurring tears. Jonathan gave her an awkward- like hug; trying to be helpful while filling the gap between their two separate lives. It's a once in a lifetime event seeing my two children hug each other without any type of violence or verbal aggression involved. Something that I fear wouldn't ever happen again.

"I know you wanted to go with Father." Jonathan put on a faint smile.

"You have no idea," Evelyn sighed, falling back onto her covers.

"Don't worry, Evy. Mother and Father will be just fine in Egypt. They'll come home, and, and everything will go back to the way it was." -Looking at his sister with a light in his eyes- "and plus, you and I'll have a great time without them! Just think about it- we could go to bars, nightclubs, sneak into movies-"

"No, we won't." Evy folded her arms crossly and stood up to face her brother.

"Jonathan, promise me. No fights, no girls, no bars, none of that until they come back."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow and lifted a finger. "And what if I do? What then my dear, sweet, baby sister?"

Evy rolled her eyes and helped him up.

"Then, and only then, I guess we could sneak into one movie- only one."

Jonathan smiled as he started for the door. "You know, you're more devious than I thought!"

He hugged his sister close. "You promise?" Evelyn pressed. Jonathan let out a sigh and paused for a moment.

"Yah, I promise."


	3. Honysuckles and Rosemary

I never thought Heaven could be so perfect.

Well, I never thought one could die so quickly.

Neverless, we're here, alone, in our perfect heaven.

Actually, dying wasn't all that bad. Though frightening at first, dying wasn't all that painful.

There we were, flying our way to the bank of the nile.. the sand dune came out from nowhere. In seconds, we were crashed, thus killing us in the process.

I didn't have much going on through my mind during this time; only the reaching thought that I would never see me baby girl again.

Things in heaven are simple. Do whatever you want. I'm guessing God is just trying to make up for the fact that you will never see your loved ones until they themselves pass away.

But alas, I've said too much. Things here in heaven are complicated; things I am not permitted to tell you at this time. If you want to know what heaven is like for yourself, die, and find out. There's no turning back from death.

Time is different here. An hour on earth could be days here in our world. There's no predicting it, or trying to keep up with the living. Sometimes years pass by, and we don't even know.

When I first arrived, I would always look for an excuse to see my children. Evelyn a tad more desirable to watch than Jonathan. I usually wanted to begin my day with happiness, not disappointment. But as the days multiplied themselves, I found it has been longer and longer since I checked up on them.

At first, I couldn't stand to see my baby girl in all her sadness. Though relieved to see her older brother try and be a comfort tool, seeing her cry like that broke my heart. It's not like I wanted this to happen.

All that matters is that my baby girl is safe.

I wake up smelling something sweet.

Roses, maybe honeysuckle.

There's a warm spot on the bed next to me. Layla must already be up.

I pick myself out of bed (with ease now that my back problems are gone) and adjust my eyes against the sunlight. As usual, everything is its soft shade of intense white.

Today seems like a good day, I think to myself.

While sitting down in my favorite leather chair we have sitting in the living room, I go through my daily routine. I close my eyes, concentrating on retrieving my thoughts I gathered when alive. You see, in heaven, after you've been here a while, you start to forget things that happened before you came. I've seen many people around here with that sort of problem, and I am certain it will not happen to me.

I start by remembering my love for Egypt.

The sun setting amist rows of beautiful pyramids.

The smell that came from entering a tomb that has been hidden from the world for thousands of years.

The soft, comforting feeling of running sand between your fingers.

But, this concentration is repedatly broken. That same flowery scent that woke me up earlier.

I almost drop my cup of coffee.

The memory of little hands climbing up on daddy's lap. I remember now. How I had always bury my face in her hair as she swung her tiny little arms around my neck.

Roses and honeysuckle.

I don't know what to feel… ashamed, or relieved.

How long has it been since I last saw my Evelyn?

The recollection of my last time watching her was hazy. She was working at the library, when she knocked down a whole row of bookcases (which made me chuckle). But my next visitation has been long overdue.

Jonathan... well, he was drinking, that's all I remember.

Standing up, I immediately started for the long spiral staircase leading up to the seeing room. The only place here where you can check up on loved ones still on earth. I reach the door, and suddenly, all the persistence drained out of me. What would I see in my baby girl? What if I don't like what I see? Would she be mad at me?

My Englishmen side broke through my inner argument. Even if so, she's still my daughter, and I will love her, no matter what.

I pushed through the soft wooden door and faced the ornate window covering the east wall. It doesn't look like much, but people here know it's the key to surviving here. Seeing loved ones again returns once again the sparkle to their eyes. Closing my own, I let my fingers slide open the tiny latches on both sides of the window and gently lifted up. I concentrate hard on what I want. But that's an easy answer. I just want to see my baby girl.

At first, the only thing visible is darkness. One might mistake this as a faulty looking glass, but I know better. Then, the shifting images flicker below me, weak at first, but gaining strength quickly. But it is not Evy I see.

A man, presumably an American, sits alone at a long wooden table, holding in his hands the morning newspaper.

I feel confused.

Then, as I look deeper into the vision, I notice something peculiar.

The man is in my house.

I want to end this right now; get back to heaven. But something stops me.

The door behind the man with the newspaper creaks open, revealing a woman, no older than thirty, wearing a nightgown made of what looked like Egyptian cotton.

Evelyn.

My Evelyn.

Boy, she looks like her mother.

She sinks down in the chair next to the man and pours herself a cup of coffee. The man smiles at her and takes her hand.

That's when I notice the ring on Evelyn's finger.

I have to break away from the window and sir down. My girl, my baby girl, has been married for I don't know how long, and I didn't even know. I wondered what Layla was going to say. Our Evy, married to that... American?

Well, I was in no position to judge the guy. Being a dead man really has its disadvantages.

After I got my head back on straight, my curiosity got the best of me. I took a deep breath, and once again looked through the glass window.

I see Jonathan this time. He's sure getting to look like his old man, that's for sure. His facial expression tells me that he was probably drunk the night before and is experiencing his hundredth hangover. He pulls some cereal out from the cupboard and sits next to his sister. She shakes her head at his failed attempt to pour milk into the bowl.

I am surprised to see that he is using the sleeve of my favorite blue bathrobe to wipe up the spilled milk on the table.

And people wonder if he's actually my son.

The man looks up from his newspaper and yells something towards the upstairs. A little boy, around eight years of age, came stumbling down the staircase looking half asleep. He yawned like a lion and plopped down across from Evelyn. She smiled at the boy and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

The man hugged him and snatched the cereal box away from Jonathan's hands to pour a bowl for him.

Jonathan scowled, and leaned back into his chair. Evy smiled at her brother's reaction and got up from the table. She grabbed a bag hanging on a knob and kissed the man for a few seconds before exiting through the heavy grand door.

The man stood there for a second, just staring at the door which his wife had left seconds before.

I could see in his eyes that this man was the one for my baby girl.


	4. Love and Death

The morning was sunny and clear; not a cloud in the sky. I come downstairs to see my wife sitting at the table with a vague expression on her face. I know she is still thinking about our daughter's new family.

I shuffle through the cupboards, looking for something good to eat. Seeing the last chocolate donut, my mouth begins to water. I take a seat across from her, bringing the donut to my lips. Before I could take a bite though, Layla leaned over and snatched it out of my hands.

"You mister, need to watch your diet."

I scowl as she eats it in front of me and drinks down a tall glass of milk.

"Layla, I'm not fat,"

She looks at me sympathetically and smiles.

"Course not dear."

The room falls silent, as we begin thinking about our kids again. Her eyes drift downward.

"I miss them Howard." she whispers towards me.

Letting out a sigh of agreement, I take her hand. "They have good lives, don't worry."

Layla looked at me and frowned.

"I wish we weren't dead."

The string of words hung in the air for a while, bringing an uneasy feeling with it.

Then, suddenly, something doesn't feel right, like a feeling something big is going to happen.

I guess I was holding Layla's hand a tad too tight, because she gave me a weird glance and pulled back slowly.

Shaking my head to clear the thought, I try to grin like I always do.

"Sorry, I don't really know what happened," I tried to reassure my wife.

But I really didn't know what had happened to me. It wasn't just a feeling; it was something tugging at my insides, perhaps a signal of some-sort. Whatever it was, it was bothering the hell out of me.

I was brought back to reality when Layla's eyes widened.

"You feel it too?"

She nods, and rolls her eyes when I flash her a triumphant smirk. Then, her face pales.

"What?"

"It's- it's Evelyn." she says in a daze.

She doesn't look well.

"I think... I think she died."

Some people say that once you die, all your trouble goes away.

But those people don't know a bloody thing about heaven.

Things will never be easy, even in the afterlife.

My baby girl is dead now.

I know the feeling all to well; being ripped away from the ones you love. What about the man? And the boy? Not to mention her brother.

Death is something that cannot be reversed. To my understanding, that is.

These are all but some of the thoughts reeling in my head after hearing this news.

But then something hits me.

I'm going to see my girl again.

Layla grabs my hand, interrupting my thoughts, and pulls me outside and down the windy streets.

I immediately know where we are headed, for the city hall building is only a few blocks away from where we live. That's where all the newly dead go to seek out relatives and friends.

That's where my Evy is.

The sun is now beating down on the two of us at high noon. We reached the city hall building practically gasping for air. If you know how old I was, you would understand my predicament.

The man standing guard at the door looked at us funny, and held up his hand.

"Please," I begged, exasperated. "Our daughter is one of the newly arrived."

The man looks at us for a minute before letting us through.

Thoughts and emotions are flying through me like bullets; piercing me every time one hits. I was happy, yet sad to know that death has claimed another member of our little family. I had to stop before my thoughts got the best of me again.

We both entered the massive room filled with too many people to even count. They were everywhere, but none of them were the one we were looking for.

My baby girl was no where to be found.

"Layla, maybe she's not actually..."

I was interrupted by a shout from the crowd. Well, it was more like a cry.

Layla and I both swivel around to see our Evelyn, my baby girl, standing there in the open, tears streaking her soft face.

"Mom!" she cried, running to her arms. Though she looked almost thirty, she hugged her mother in a way almost childlike. Seeing her made me think of my five year old girl who would always run into her father's arms. Guess some things never change.

When she finally broke hold from Layla, (which took a good ten minutes) she took one look at me and burst into tears.

I held her warm body, feeling tears of my own coming on.

I've been waiting for this day for literally an eternity.

She was wearing a silk white dress, just like all the other woman around in the room. Her long, dark curls hung loose around her shoulders.

If I wasn't her father, I'd mistake her and her mother as twins.

"How did you die?" Layla asks the question like it was said every day around here. Evy sits uncomfortably down on our tiny little couch when she hears the question.

I can see she is thinking of her family.

I hand her a warm cup of coffee and she takes it with a slight smile on her face.

"Well... I was umm... murdered." she stared at her cup without another word.

My mouth hung open. "Murdered?" I repeated, "By whom?"

Evy bit her lip, not knowing what exactly what to say. She finally stood up and handed me the empty mug.

"You better sit down for this," she sighed.

"Why?" Layla and I say in unison.

"This might take a while."

I honestly didn't see this one coming.

"You _raised_ a mummy from the _dead_?" I look at her like she's crazy, but she keeps her composure and continues. "Twice, dad. Haven't you been listening?"

I shake my head and beacon for her to continue.

"Well, my son Alex wanted to come along when Rick and I were talking about coming back to Egypt because of these weird dreams I've been having, and then... everything went kind of haywire after that." Evelyn sighs, as if remembering the moment like it was yesterday.

For all we knew, it could've been.

I waited for her to continue, but her face turned perplexed.

"Is everything alright?" Layla touches her arm lightly.

Evy's brown eyes look up at us and presses her hand up to her temple.

"What?"

She acts like I'm crazy. "You don't hear that?"

I shake my head slowly. Then she smiles. "It's a voice in my head; kind of reminds me of Alex's sweet little voice..." her own voice drifts off to some unknown place.

Layla glances towards me.

We don't hear a thing.

Evelyn's hands moved to hear ears. "It's- it's getting louder!"

Now I hear her voice getting dimmer and dimmer...

Having a vague idea about what was actually happening; I pull her up out of the couch and hug her. If everything she told us was true, I have no trouble believing that this was even possible here on heaven.

"Tell Jonathan that we love him,"

"And Alex too-"

"But-"

"And be a good girl."

I kiss her forehead lightly as she begins to fade away right into the air.

"Rick is so lucky to have you," Layla holds back her tears as she pulls her only daughter back into her arms.

"Mum? Dad?" Evy's voice is barley audible now.

I raise my hand up to brush away her tears, but it goes right through her body.

My baby girl is leaving me; again.

"I love you,"

The soft whisper echoes through the house, as it still does to this day.

I stand there, still stunned by what had just occurred on front of me. My baby girl was here, and then she vanished. Just like that.

Before I know what is happening, Layla and I are once again standing in front of the grand window, aching to know what happened to our daughter. I take my hand in hers and peer through it; seeking the answer my only burning desire.

My grandson has an expression of pure joy laid on his small face. He opens his arms and is soon enveloped by his mothers embrace. A tear slides down his tender cheek; a tear that only can come from moments like this.

Evy holds him closer and closer to her chest, craving the feel of life.

And what a great feeling that is.

I smile.


End file.
